A second chance
by Missile.x
Summary: Moving on can be hard and change can be uncalled for. This is something Gumshoe learns when he visits his elderly father in a care home.     NOTE:Could potentially be upsetting if you know an Alziemer's sufferer. Other than that, enjoy...and review? ;D


A second chance 

Dick Gumshoe had never been one of those men, afraid to cry. Especially not these days, he was doing the job he loved, he was married to the girl of his dreams and their salaries _combined_ meant they could afford a decent living space. He didn't have anyone he needed to impress by being overly tough or macho. He was happy just being himself all the time. What's more was the fact that gumshoe had recently got some very good news, life was certainly good right now.

Not everything was perfect exactly. Mr. Edgeworth was _always_ docking his pay and then feeling remorseful and raising it a little, and then docking it again and then giving it back, etcetra.

And there were always those days when him and Maggey would argue continuously over silly little things because of something at work or lack of sleep, Gumshoe was proud to say that none of the arguments where ever over something serious that the other had done and they always made up again afterwards.

He still missed the days that had gone by over the years, the days when he worked on more cases with Mr. Edgeworth, back when Phoenix Wright was still a defense attorney and he'd see him and his assistant Maya Fey, scuttling around the crime scene, when they were supposed to be allowed near them. Gumshoe valued justice and truth over many things, he'd always let them investigate a little, just in case the defendant really wasn't guilty.

Gumshoe was many things, clumsy, forgetful and he even admitted to himself he could be a little bit dense at times, he was just glad Maggey never seemed to mind any of these imperfections. She valued loyalty and kindness over anything else, and Gumshoe was certainly both of those things.

Unfortunately his mother had passed away recently, she'd been quite old and compared to some of the ways to die that gumshoe saw in his line of work, dying in your sleep at the age of 75 didn't seem like the worst way to go. Now all that was left of his parents was his father and _he_ was Gumshoe's main cause of worry. Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, Gumshoe's father (Frank) was slowly becoming slowly more and more forgetful. A great source of pain for Gumshoe was that he knew it was only a matter of time before his father forgot all about him. He was shameful to admit, this made his want to visit his father, less and less. He dreaded every other weekend, (the visiting schedule used to be every weekend but with his fathers memory loss Gumshoe had been quietly un keen to go and been grateful to whoever had upped his working hours), he knew it was cowardly but he wasn't sure how he'd deal with things, if the severity of the disease increased.

Inevitably, one weekend, Gumshoe and Maggey went to see Frank and it seemed he had finally entered into the realms of full Dementia. The care worker warned Gumshoe that his father might not remember him but nothing could have really prepared him for the emotional shock of seeing his father like this. It had been four weeks since he'd last visited his father; Gumshoe had been so busy in the last two weeks he'd actually had good cause not to come, not that he saw it that way, in Gumshoe's opinion he just felt cowardly and hated himself for missing out on his probably final chance to see his father.

"Dad?" he said quietly, pushing open the door of his father's room. Frank was slumped against the pillow as the carer had left him a moment ago, knowing they needed some time alone. "He's surprising docile for a sufferer." She'd said to him. This sounded like his dad, Frank had never been an angry man - he'd never smacked Gumshoe when he was little or gotten angry when him when he'd been his usual clumsy self. Instead he'd just say "Everyone makes mistakes."

"It's Dick, you probably don't remember me…but I'm your son." Gumshoe had been so nervous about coming to see his, he'd not really thought about what he was going to say.

Frank looked over at him confusedly, Gumshoe felt this was the best response he could have hope for, a least his father was not yelling out for him to go away in a confused, angry mess.

"Who are you?" he rasped, squinting over at him.

"I'm-I'm your son." He repeated.

"I-I have no son. I'm sorry pal, you must be mistaken."

Gumshoe just nodded and smiled a little, even though every part of him felt like breaking down into tears, "How are you feeling today then…Frank?" He felt this was best, so as not to confuse the old man with more speaking of the son he apparently didn't have.

"I'm- I'm quite cold today, would you mind shutting that window?" Frank said, pointing over at the open window next to his bed.

"Course not," Gumshoe said, gruffly still fighting back tears, he leant over and shut the window. It wasn't cold (at least not in Gumshoe's opinion); the room was more like an oven.

Not sure of what to say next he decided to ask, "So, how's this place treating you then?"

The old man smiled a quite toothless grin, "Very well thank you, why, there was a lovely lady lookin' after me a moment ago, what was 'er name again…err, err…"

"Hilary."

"Y-yes, that was 'er! She's lovely, she is, reminds me of someone…not sure who though."

Gumshoe had noticed she looked vaguely similar to his mother when she'd been younger, maybe he did remember aspects of his life, _just nothing to do with me…_ he thought sadly.

"How are the meals here?" he knew this was a lame conversation starter but what else could he talk about, old times?

"They're lovely, why, the ladies cooked me my favorite the other day, noodles a-la fromage'."

Gumshoe looked down sadly, that wasn't his dad's favorite, he knew his dads favorite to be mushroom ragout.

His Dad was either lying, or had just forgotten what his actual favorite meal was. He supposed that Cheese noodles were what his and his mother had to eat in their earlier days as a couple, before his father had gotten that promotion at work. Frank was the reason that Gumshoe had decided he wanted a career in the police force, seeing his Dad's bravery and pure heart made Gumshoe want to be exactly like him when he grew up.

"They miss you back at the station, dad." There he went again, calling him "Dad", force of habit he supposed.

"What station is this?" Frank answered a quizzical look on his face.

"The Police station, it's where you used to work." This was true, not many people who had worked with Frank were still employed now, any that were though, always made a point of asking Gumshoe how his father was and how the police force was full of corruption now, "not like the old days" they'd say. Gumshoe was forced to agree with them, he _missed_ the old days, back when his father had been happy, full of life, a good father. What had happened to him? Did Alzheimer's disease run in the family? Was this how Gumshoe would live out _his_ final days?

"Listen pal," he began, realizing the old man was no longer listening to him anymore, "I-I have to go now. Duty calls!" his dad had always said this before leaving to go to work in the morning.

….

"Goodbye Dad, I-I love you." He hated this being the circumstances where he said this to his Dad, he hadn't said it enough. If he could've had his time again he would have thanked his Dad for being such an amazing father, every day if it'd meant him remembering him now. But now he supposed it was too late. The words were nothing to the old man sitting in front of him, just some sentence he'd forget five minutes later.

Even if Frank Gumshoe did know who he was anymore, Gumshoe saw no point in making the old man think he'd upset him in some way; he turned away as tears rolled down his face, "Cya…pal." Subconsciously, this was a last attempt to jog something in his father's memory, after all, he'd got that saying from his dad.

"Pal?" Frank was silent for a minute, Gumshoe turned round to look at him, and something must have clicked. Surely it was too good to be true? "Dick? Wh-when did you get here?"

"D-dad, you…remember me?"

Frank squinted, "What are you on about, when did I ever forget my own son!" he said chuckling a little.

"You – never mind, I've missed you so much Dad!" he ran to his father and hugged him, unable to contain himself.

"Easy there, whatever's the matter, Dick!"

"It's…it's nothing, I just thought…"

"Hehe, have you been thinking I'm not long for this world by any chance?" Frank looked at him as though seeing him clearly for the first time since Gumshoe had entered.

Frank hadn't exactly gotten Gumshoe's grievance spot on, but so as not to confuse him, he just nodded.

"Dad, I don't ever want you to go…" it seemed his inner child had woken up completely now. "I miss those days when It was just you, me and mum were all together, a family!"

Frank smiled, "Dick, I've had my life," he spoke softly and slowly, his breathe rattling a little. "It's time for you to have yours now. It's time for **you** to get married, have children and have that family you miss so much!"

Gumshoe looked down sadly, "I-I am married, Dad, I got married to Maggey last year."

"Oh!" Frank looked faintly annoyed now, "Then why wasn't I there, then!"

Gumshoe assumed that his father only remembered certain things from his life, the things that stood out the most, "You…you were there Dad; you and Mom."

Now his father looked down, sadly, "Oh…sorry Dick, my memory's not what it used to be…"

"A-actually Dad," Gumshoe began. He had to tell his father this while he still remembered who he was. "Me and Maggey…we had some news recently…well, on Wednesday to be exact…"

"Oh?"

"Maggey's pregnant."

"Son! That's wonderful news!" Frank exclaimed, probably now regretting his enthusiasm as it had let to a rather wheezy coughing fit.

"If it's a boy…we want to name it after you, is that okay?" Gumshoe and Maggey had spent much time trying to think of a name before it had finally occurred to him what he _really_ wanted to call it.

"That's more than okay with me Son, it'll be an honour to have a son of yours named after me!" Gumshoe felt good to see the genuine happiness light up in his father's eyes again.

"…And if it's a girl we want to name it after Mom. Maggey also really loved her name; Julie."

"I think Julie would have felt very honored." Frank said, still smiling, "I'm very proud of you Dick, look at you, you have a wife and a child on the way!"

Gumshoe was indisputably pleased about those things, but there was still a big part of his that so badly wanted things back the way they were when he was younger, he knew things had to change...but why couldn't he have both of his families – Him, Maggey and the baby - _and_ his parents."

"I've got long left, Dick." His father said, looking straight at him.

"Please Dad, d-don't say that."

Frank looked blank now; he seemed to be staring at something across the room. Gumshoe turned to see it was a photo of his parents at roughly the age of forty, he remembered when this photo was taken.

"Dad, do you remember when that photo was taken?"

"N-no, I…don't…recall…that…incidence." He breathe was a little unsteady and his eyes still fixed upon the picture.

"When we all went fishing when I was about eight, down by Gourd Lake…we didn't catch anything…I just remember it because…well, we were all together then, just the three of us."

"I…still…don't….remember." He saw a tear of frustration roll down his father's face, "I wish I could…picture it but…I can't-" - this was followed by another wheezy coughing fit. This was killing Gumshoe to see how his father's health had deteriorated and not just his health, his memory in particular.

"It's…it's okay Dad, you don't have to try and remember it, as long as I do I can always pass those memories on to my kids…never to be forgotten…"

Frank gave a watery smile, "I'm so proud of you…"

All the things his dad kept saying sounded strangely like final goodbyes, every part of him wanted his Dad to tell him how he was going to be fine and live for many more years…even if he knew full well that wasn't true.

"I'm-I'm quite tired…" he stopped and yawned. "I-I might shut my eyes for a minute."

"So…I guess this is it then…Goodbye Dad." Was this really it? Was this possibly the last time he'd ever see his Dad? He had to say it now, while his Dad still understood what the words really meant. "Love you Dad…" he said quietly.

There was no reply for a minute, then finally, "I love you too Son."

A tear ran town his cheek, it was okay now, his Dad's eyes were shut, and he wouldn't see him cry now.

Gumshoe walked out of the room, his head hung, silent tears falling down his face, he pulled an old hanky from his pocket and wiped them away. This was not because he wanted to hide it from other people that he was crying, he was proud, he'd finally come to terms with things. This didn't mean it didn't hurt, it was killing him inside that he might never see his Dad again but getting a second chance to speak to him…well, that was something else for him. Most people didn't get second chance with Alzheimer's patients; he knew how lucky he'd been. Gumshoe wasn't one to take things for granted and this was no different.

He reached the reception, "He's gone for a nap." He said to Hilary who nodded-

"How was he?" she asked with genuine care in her voice.

Gumshoe gulped back any tears that were trying to escape, "Good, he remembered…in the end."

Maggey was waiting there in the foyer; she put her arms around him tightly. He lent down, burying his head in her shoulder (this was difficult because of the height difference).

She didn't ask him if he was okay or not because she knew he wasn't. Losing a parent was one thing, but losing a parent to a disease that made it so they wouldn't even remember you, was another.

The road ahead might be a difficult one but she knew they'd make it; Greif could do terrible things but Gumshoe was such a strong good man. Maggey made a promise to herself, right there on the spot that she'd support him no matter how bad things got.

"Come on, " he finally said, "It's time to go home."

The next morning they received a call from the care home. Frank had passed away in the night. Gumshoe and Maggey weren't shocked, his health had been fairly precarious for a while now, and this paired with the disease had made the outlook seem even bleaker.

When the Hilary was breaking the news to Gumshoe, she mentioned something that that made Gumshoe feel just a _little_ better – When discovered in the morning, Frank had been found holding (as though a teddy bear) the photo taken that day by the lake.

Gumshoe smiled just a little over his tears, "Great Dad, you didn't forget."


End file.
